Entanglements
by ManicSinesthesia
Summary: Commander Shephard struggles with the ramifications of her death, and her attraction to the Normandy's resident Assassin and Vigilante snipers.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there fellow Mass Effect fans! It's been a long time since I've been able to write for fun, so I'm considering this as much needed practice.**

 **The story is M rated for later chapters, and will deal with serious themes such as death, loss, PTSD, and interspecies romance.**

 **I have no idea how long this will end up being, your guess is as good as mine.**

 **BioWare owns the characters — I'm just playing in their sandbox.**

* * *

The Normandy was gone. Commander Jane Shepard stared blankly, trying to comprehend the finality of that fact as flaming pieces of debris hurtled past. _Her ship_. Gone. She was so stunned that it took her a few seconds to register the hissing in her ears, and the alarm flashing on her heads-up display.

She grappled frantically, reaching around her suit to try and stem the leak in her air supply. She strained, muscles in her arms and fingers stretching to their limit, and still the damage remained elusive. Shepard grinned wryly as the enormity of the situation finally registered. She was alone in an unpopulated area of space, hours from rescue, and she was going to die due to a pinprick air leak. She wasn't going to go out in a blaze of glory, no dramatic death in combat as she had always expected. She was going to suffocate. Alone.

 _Fucking fantastic. At least most of the escape pods made it out in time._ Shepard tried to console herself with the knowledge that most of her crew made it to safety, but she had no idea _which_ members had actually made it to the pods, and worry and fear for her closest friends gnawed at her.

She had other things to worry about as her air supply abruptly ran out and the useless alarm began shrieking in earnest. Shepard gasped as the pain began searing through her, her lungs burning for the breath of fresh air that would never come. Shepard thrashed desperately, unable to control her movements as instinct kicked in, choked gasping ringing in her ears along with the blaring of alarms, and her final thoughts as the pain dragged her into oblivion — _regrets_.

* * *

Shepard rolled to the floor and smacked her elbow against something hard, the blaring of that horrid alarm screeching in her ear. _She couldn't breathe!_ Her hands fumbled around her body, but didn't encounter the air rupture, let alone her suit. _Why wasn't she wearing her suit!_

"Commander, your vitals are spiking. Adrenaline, and blood pressure are reaching dangerous levels. Would you like me to call Dr. Chakwas?" a pleasant electronically modulated voice intoned from the ceiling.

"Good God EDI! Turn off that blasted alarm! No, don't call Chakwas, I'm fine," Shepard gasped out, finally registering her surroundings. She lay sprawled on the floor of her cabin in a tangle of sheets. Her elbow throbbed from where she had smacked it against the apparently industrial strength nightstand.

She barked out a laugh that turned into a sob halfway, and curled into a ball trying frantically to banish the vivid flashback that masqueraded as a dream.

"EDI?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Please change my alarm setting so it plays only Earth classical music, or something similarly soothing." Shepard shuddered. This was the fourth time she had woken in a panic after an early morning alarm. It seemed that any standard alarm tone that played while she was still asleep triggered a flashback. "If that doesn't wake me up, just try talking to me from now on."

"Of course Commander. Anything else?"

"No. Thank you, EDI."

"Logging you out Shepard," a slight click signaled that EDI was no longer concentrating on Shepard directly. She was the ship, so it was impossible for her to not pay attention, but Shepard appreciated the effort.

Gritting her teeth, Shepard got up, tossed the tangled sheets back onto the bed and made her way to her bathroom. The cold metal of the floor beneath her bare feet did wonders to bring her back to reality.

She went through her morning routine quickly and efficiently, glancing in the mirror only long enough to slap on some concealer beneath her pale green eyes. Granted, with the angry looking scars still glowing red and fresh from her skin she wondered why she bothered to try and hide how tired she looked. Vanity? Probably. _Stupid female instincts_.

A dab of product on her fingers, a quick run through her short cropped red hair, and she was ready to face the day. Just so long as Miranda left her alone until she had her coffee.

* * *

"Commander," Kelly chirped brightly from her spot at the mess room table, "Miranda would like to talk to you as soon as possible. Something about the dossiers on Omega."

Shepard just barely stopped the groan of irritation from passing her lips. These morning people were severely testing her sanity. "Tell her I'll be there momentarily. I need my coffee."

"She said it's urgent as we'll be arriving at Omega shortly," Kelly said.

Shepard stopped walking. She turned to Kelly and leveled her patented _don't fuck with me_ glare. "I. Need. My. Coffee."

Kelly's eyes grew large and she nodded meekly before ducking her head back down to her breakfast.

Shepard felt a faint twinge of guilt, but it was too bloody early to be dealing with Miranda without being fully awake. She'd apologize to Kelly later — when she wasn't in the mood to bite people's heads off.

She continued over to Gardiner who was grinning at her like a maniac. "Heard you were a monster in the mornings, Shepard."

She frowned, but then noticed the steaming mug of caffeine-laden miracle being pushed in her direction. People could say what they wanted about Gardiner's cooking, but his coffee was divine.

"Are you talking back to your superior officer?" Shepard asked quirking her left eyebrow, while taking a sip.

"No ma'am. Just stating the obvious," he said still smiling.

Shepard grinned. Gardiner was one of the few members of her current Cerberus-laden crew who didn't take her too seriously, or act like they were terrified of her due to her reputation. He respected her, but also realized that when she was on her down time she appreciated not being treated like the "boss lady."

"Thanks Gardiner," she said, and saluted him with her mug. Then she sighed and glanced over in the direction of Miranda's closed door. "I guess it's time to face the music."

"She can wait until you finish your coffee I think. ETA's still three hours out," he said.

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Shepard grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all, I'm back! Apologies for the huge break between chapters, but life happened. Things will pick up quickly after this chapter (not the posting speed, the story itself... though I hope to not take as long this time around) and we'll get to the good stuff soon!**

* * *

Miranda was such a bitch.

Ok, so Shepard could be a bitch too, but it's not like she tried to — Well, ok, she sometimes did try — but she tried to not be that way to her friends or crew.

 _Dammit_.

From the moment Shepard had woken up, Miranda had been giving her orders. Now, while she appreciated the wake-up call that had saved her life in the... hospital bay? Incubation chamber? Mad scientist's lab? _Whatever_. While she appreciated the save, Miranda continued to order her around. First it was the test mission on Freedom's Progress, which Shepard partly understood since they hadn't yet known if their experiment would function like she used to. However, the test run was completed with flying colors — according to Jacob.

Shepard frowned and pushed back the memory of the feelings of unease and abandonment she had experienced upon meeting Tali. At least she had done right by her friend by _not_ allowing Cerberus to abscond with Veetor. She'd seen what Cerberus had done in the past — rogue splinter cell, or not — and wasn't about to let that happen again.

It had also been good to see that The Illusive Man hadn't been lying with his report on the status of her old crew. Although it stung that Tali hadn't been willing to come with her, it had been good to confirm her survival with her own eyes.

"If you aren't going to listen to me, then why the hell did you bring me back in the first place?"

"Because humanity _needs_ you," Miranda said, in an equally exasperated voice. Her tone implied that she felt like she was explaining things to a child.

"Look, fine. I get that you're here to babysit me because The Illusive Man spent a _ridiculous_ amount of credits to bring me back and he doesn't want that investment to splatter her brains all over the nearest bulkhead from sheer stupidity in case my death left me a little rusty." Shepard paused and took a deep breath.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it..._

"However, if you want me to actually _do_ anything to help out with the situation regarding the missing colonists, then you're going to have to trust my decisions and —"

"That's not —" Miranda started with a shake of her head.

"No! You shut up and listen to me." Shepard growled.

Miranda narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, but she closed her mouth.

"You people wanted _Commander_ Shepard, so you've got her. That means you trust my judgment and follow my orders. Report back to The Illusive Man if you must, but you _will_ listen to me if you want to remain on _my_ team."

"Very well. As you say Shepard," Miranda said with a pout of displeasure.

 _She made a pout look sexy. How is that fair? When I pout I look like a baby. Great. Now I'm jealous of a pout._

Shepard sighed and ran her right hand through her hair — a familiar gesture that somehow felt strange due to its now incredibly short length. "That doesn't mean that I won't ask for advice or your opinion on things, but you have to believe that I know what I'm doing, or this... partnership won't work."

Miranda's posture lost some of its tension. "You're right. We brought you back because of your experience and leadership abilities. It doesn't make sense if we don't let you exercise them."

"Right. OK then. Now that that's settled, suit up, weapon up, and meet me at the air lock in ten. We should be just about —"

"We'll be docking at Omega in seven minutes, Shepard," EDI's calm voice floated down from the ceiling.

"...There."

"You always did like having the final word, Commander."

"Shut it Joker. And stop eavesdropping. Aren't you supposed to be piloting this thing?"

"It's called _multitasking_."

Shepard laughed, but flipped him off in the general direction of the ceiling. She was sure EDI had a camera up there and would relay the message.

* * *

"Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I suggest you go to Afterlife now and present yourself."

"Thanks. Will do. As soon as I take care of—"

"Afterlife. Now." Aria's runner-boy growled out before making a beeline back to his boss.

"Alrighty then. Afterlife it is. I'm sure the plague will be fine in the meantime." Shepard shrugged at her companions.

"Can't get any worse," Kasumi quipped. "Besides, it's a good idea to keep the local crime lord happy."

Shepard laughed. "Indeed. I may just need a favor later."

She was glad she'd made the brief stopover to pick up the notorious thief. Kasumi's mischievous sense of humor was something she could get behind.

Miranda huffed in displeasure. "We don't have time for this."

"You heard the man. 'Aria. Now.' Anyway, EDI mentioned that we have to visit the recruitment station in Afterlife to figure out where Archangel is hiding. Two birds and all that," Shepard turned and followed after the now distant figure with Kasumi at her right shoulder and an unhappy Miranda trailing behind.

She started hearing music long before they reached the door to the club. The Afterlife bouncer waved Shepard and her posse through with barely a look. The music inside was just a decibel or two below deafening, and the flashing blue and orange lights were hell on the eyes. Shepard wished she had the time to take a look around—there was always something interesting going on in a club. Maybe she'd have some time after they found Archangel and saved the slums from grisly plague death.

"If I were Aria I would be... there!" Shepard spotted a figure atop a raised platform that was guarded by several Turians and Batarians. "Well, this is going to be fun."

They made their way to the platform through the throng of inebriated dancers. The guards stood by passively watching their approach until Shepard stood a few feet away from the Asari at the center of the throne-like dais.

"That's close enough," Aria snapped. Her command triggered a tense standoff as her guards pulled weapons on Shepard and her party.

Miranda and Kasumi quickly drew down as well.

"Well hello to you too, Aria. Commander Shepard, presenting myself as requested." Shepard mock-saluted to Aria's back. "I take it you're the one to talk to if I need information."

A Batarian came up and began scanning her with medical scanner of some kind, and then a brief question and answer session began. Shepard respected Aria's caution, particularly seeing as how the galaxy assumed she had been killed years ago, and it was possible that people had tried to impersonate her, although that idea made her decidedly uncomfortable.

Aria also treated Shepard like an equal, despite their vast difference in ages and positions. They were both very dangerous, very determined women who recognized a potential ally. While Shepard may be low man on the totem pole now, her past connections with the Alliance and the Council could be of potential use to Aria later, and Aria's underworld connections were a boon to Shepard's mission now.

As the discussion progressed, Shepard found herself admiring the beauty of Aria's coloring and facial markings. Judging from Aria's smirk, she may have noticed Shepard's appraisal. She was a beautiful Asari, and if Shepard had liked women, she may have been interested. Yes, the Asari were _technically_ monogendered, but they registered as female to Shepard's mammalian brain... much to Liara's chagrin.

 _Time to stop the small chat_.

"What can you tell me about Archangel?" Shepard asked.

* * *

After the brief discussion with Aria, Shepard pushed her way back to the floor of the club and straight up to the bar. She didn't particularly want a drink, but it was less crowded here than near the dance floor. She was strongly suspicious her _upgrades_ wouldn't let her become intoxicated after just a shot or two anyway.

Miranda glared at her, radiating disapproval.

Well, that solved that dilemma. Shepard suddenly found herself very thirsty and requested a shot. "So it's between a doctor who disappeared in a quarantined plague zone —"

"Who may or may not already be dead," Kasumi leaned on the bar to Shepard's left.

"Yes. Or Archangel, who currently has three of the most powerful merc gangs and several dozen hired hands —"

"Cannon fodder," Miranda cut in.

"Can I finish a sentence here people?" Shepard rubbed the bridge of her nose, and gave the bartender a grateful smile when he set a glass in front of her. "We've got one likely dead, and one who shortly _will_ be dead." She absently chewed on her lip while staring up at the flashing light show illuminating the Asari dancer right over her head.

"Well, it's not much of a choice. Archangel needs us _now_." Shepard decided. She quickly slammed back the liquor. "Last chance for a pit stop kiddos. Do you have everything you need to kill some mercs?"

Miranda smiled. "Of course, Shepard."

"Ready when you are, Shep." Kasumi grinned, her eyes glittering dangerously from beneath her hood.

"Excellent. If the good doctor has survived the plague until now a few more hours probably won't kill him. Probably."


End file.
